


"Good Day, Mitth'raw'nuruodo"

by WantonWhale



Series: Good Day, Lieutenant Vanto [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Anal, Body Paint, Fingering, First Time, M/M, Oral, Thrawn's in prison and it's fine, convoluted bonding rituals, erotic calligraphy, it KNOWS, it's also lube, that wampa knows what it did to get turned into a sex blanket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22604065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WantonWhale/pseuds/WantonWhale
Summary: The explicit version of the bonding ritual from "Good Day, Lieutenant Vanto."Basically, Chiss bonding rituals are very, very involved.
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto
Series: Good Day, Lieutenant Vanto [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626466
Comments: 14
Kudos: 78





	"Good Day, Mitth'raw'nuruodo"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the incredibly talented [chaos_monkey ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey) for the beta and encouragement on this!!!  
> Any remaining faults are my own.  
> If you don't want to read [GDLV](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22550122/chapters/53886169), just know that Eli and Thrawn are getting bonded: it's been preceded by much ado about nothing, people being gay and doing crime, and some juicy fruit; the whole process is convoluted.
> 
> Cheunh vocabulary notes/reminders at bottom

Something told Eli that declaring “I’ve already seen you basically naked when we shared quarters and my body is ready—hand me the fucking paint brush and I’ll scribble this kriff out real quick so you can absolutely wreck me” would be less than appropriate for the moment.

And he found himself very, very conscious about just what was appropriate for the moment in light of the circumstances. Honestly, Eli found himself less intrigued by the idea that he’d be Thrawn’s first than he thought a lot of guys he knew (some of whom he'd slept with) might be. In actuality, he felt honored, yes— _incredibly_ honored—but also completely terrified that his soon-to-be husband’s first time would be anything less than the perfection he deserved.

Eli barely remembered his own first time. He was eighteen and he’d gotten drunk with one of the guys he’d grown up with on Lysatra to celebrate getting into the Myomar Academy. It happened in his grandpa’s _barn_ of all places. He vaguely remembered a lot of awkward, toothy kisses and uncoordinated rutting followed later by panic when he desperately tried to figure out how to get cum stains out of his brand new cadet’s uniform without resorting to asking his mother.

She took it in stride, bless her heart.

He shrugged inwardly: he was pretty much already set on burning _these_ clothes anyway.

Eli took a deep breath as he met Thrawn’s red eyes. If the ritual demanded he take his time “inspecting” Thrawn’s body, that was exactly what he would do, and hell if he wasn’t going to make it an experience to remember.

He reached out with one hand, trailing the back of his hand along a blue bicep. “If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable in _any_ way,” Eli said softly as he slid his hand over Thrawn’s shoulder to trace the line of his collar bone above his shirt, “please promise me you’ll tell me.”

Thrawn bowed his head and said, “Likewise.”

Eli smiled warmly at him, slipping a hand behind Thrawn’s neck. He gently played with the soft hairs at the nape with his fingers as he leaned forward, ghosting his lips over the side of Thrawn’s blue neck. Eli pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his throat and felt the pulse point under his jaw flutter beneath his lips, tasted the heartbeat quickening against his tongue.

It seemed to be quite the erogenous zone for the Chiss, Eli noted as he gently dragged his teeth along the column of Thrawn’s neck, earning him a quiet, almost inaudible groan.

He twined his fingers in blue-black hair as he continued slowly exploring the area with his mouth, adding each muted gasp and shiver to the mental map he was composing of the Chiss’s body.

Eli greedily collected data as he took his time undressing the man, compiling a catalog of actions and reactions:

A gentle nibble on Thrawn’s ear… a soft sigh…

A scraping of nails along bare ribs as Eli pulled up his shirt… a shuddering breath…

A grazing of teeth on a dusky blue nipple… a surprised gasp followed quickly by a throaty groan…

A firm bite on his abdomen as Eli slipped off his pants… an eager moan…

A kiss to his inner thigh… a pleased hum and rolling of hips…

A flick of the tongue behind his knee… a flexing of thigh muscles and another of those wonderful, soft sighs…

Once the man’s ever-present composure was well on its way to becoming a forgotten relic of the past, Eli placed a final, seal-like kiss over Thrawn’s heart before reaching for the brush and pot of gold paint.

The light of Thrawn’s eyes in the darkened room cast a red glow on his cheeks like a blush as he propped himself onto his elbows to watch.

As he swirled the tip of the brush in the viscous, glimmering paint, Eli settled himself on Thrawn’s legs, straddling his thighs and resting against his knees. When he noticed Thrawn’s gaze locked on him, he wagged his eyebrows once at him and gave him a small smile.

Experimentally, Eli dipped his pinky into the jar and sucked off the paint from his finger. The texture was slick, the flavor sweet and familiar though he couldn’t place it just then.

Thrawn’s red eyes sparked with unspoken desire as he watched Eli, his gaze intently following every movement. At long last, Eli leaned down and braced his right hand on Thrawn’s shoulder as he held the brush in his left, letting it hover over his collarbone as he mentally plotted the ideal spacing for the three ideograms.

Eli closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself; he was still trapped in his ridiculous clothes, and his trousers had been _painfully_ tight for some time now. He glanced down at Thrawn, who was doing a remarkable job of remaining relatively composed in spite of the very evident and very _large_ arousal throbbing against his own stomach. But then the man had always seemed to be an endless well of patience and poise.

Eli looked forward to shattering that.

He was eternally grateful he’d taken Thrass’s advice to practice writing out his _che’no_ to heart as he made the first, tentative stroke down Thrawn’s sternum.

Thrawn let out a sharp hiss of breath, his hands clenched determinedly at his sides, and Eli realized he’d shimmied up too far while his attention was focused solely on his brushstrokes, and had inadvertently dragged himself along the Chiss’s exposed cock.

Eli winced, smiling apologetically. The Chiss was forbidden from touching the other man until he’d declared his suitor agreeable by completing his _che’no,_ and Eli could only imagine how frustrating this must be.

Thrawn let out a slow, ragged breath and said tightly, “perhaps perfection of form is less important than speed in this instance.” 

Eli breathed out a laugh, smiling fondly at him. Then, with lips parted slightly in concentration, he began tracing the lines of the first ideogram with more confidence than before.

 _Mitth—_ aurora—was an expressionistic series of diagonal, waving sweeps across blue pectoral muscles, supported by a single horizontal line connecting his nipples.

_El—_ breath—was trickier. Thrawn’s own increasingly ragged breathing was making it (appropriately) difficult to get a single clean line across his stomach, and this character had six. As he traced the final, gently undulating line between the muscles of his abdomen, Eli realized that given how Thrawn was currently situated, the final character was going to involve a fair amount of painting over a particular part of his anatomy that looked very, _very_ starved for attention.

As if the poor man hadn’t been teased enough since this whole bonding-ritual business had started.

Eli shimmied back along Thrawn’s thighs, biting his lip as he reloaded the brush and appraised his blue canvas. The final ideogram—sun—was essentially an eight-spoked wheel with lines of varying lengths, some with flourishes on the end. He decided it would be kindest to move backward from 135-degrees and work his way counter-clockwise, saving the _pièce de résistance_ stroke for last.

He was so deep in concentration—losing himself in gauging how best to make even, symmetrical angles without painting all the way across the blue stomach—that he almost jumped when he heard Thrawn speak, his voice tinged with amusement, “No, we do not have a protractor.”

Eli cast him a chiding look before making the first stroke, starting at the bottom of his ribcage and ending just before reaching the base of his shaft. “We could ask a guard to bring one,” he said with a mischievous smile as he drew the above his hip. “I’ve already thrown proper stroke-order out the window; we may as well call an audience while we're at it.”

Thrawn arched an eyebrow as he watched Eli paint the 225-degree line along his right thigh, “You may have realized, Eli, that I am not keen on sharing you.”

Eli’s face spread into a mischievous grin as he painted the 315-degree spoke on his left thigh, “You don’t say? I hadn’t noticed.” He made quick work of the 360 and 45-degree lines and said, “Well, I’ve got no intentions of bein’ shared, gorgeous, so I wouldn’t worry yourself about it too much.”

As he swirled the brush in the jar, reloading the bristles with an extra-generous coating of gold paint, he took a few moments to appreciate the breath-taking sight before him.

Thrawn was truly, _painfully_ beautiful.

The glimmer of gold paint on his muscular form, glittering softly in the moonlight against his cobalt skin was so striking he fully appreciated the need of that Chiss painter to document the scene in such careful, colorful, and loving detail.

Taking in a deep breath, Eli lowered the brush. Gold paint dripped from the bristles, landing in a slow, lazy drop down a blue thigh. He could see Thrawn’s muscles flutter and tense beneath him as he painted a deliberate, languid stroke from his hairless indigo balls, up his thick shaft, stopping only after he surpassed the purple head. The body-warmed paint dripped over the curve of his shaft, collecting in stray droplets on his blue abdomen.

Eli let out the breath he’d been holding and tossed the brush off the edge of the blanket to land with a clatter on the stone floor before rolling under the cot. “It’s finished,” he said shakily, “can you please just be touching me now?”

Thrawn did not need to be told twice. He rose up from the soft, burgundy blanket and slid a hand behind Eli’s neck, crushing their mouths together in a passionate kiss. Eli moaned in relief as he opened his mouth against Thrawn’s, melting into the embrace as one of Thrawn’s arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close.

A hiss escaped Thrawn’s teeth as Eli bucked against him, the soft velvety fabric of his pants rubbing against his pulsating need.

Eli frantically tore at the clasp at his neck and began unhooking his tunic, his hands shaking in his desperation as Thrawn kissed each inch of exposed, golden-brown skin. With a relieved sigh, Eli shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it unceremoniously over his shoulder; he’d never been so grateful to be rid of a garment.

At the same time, Thrawn began unfastening the buttons of his burgundy trousers. He slipped his hand into the fly to grasp Eli’s shaft, pulling him from his pants and giving him a long, deliberate stroke.

 _Fucking finally,_ Eli thought as he buried his face in his lover’s neck, panting against his shoulder as Thrawn worked his cock in his hand.

How many times had Eli touched himself in the solitude of his shower or bunk, imagining—hoping, even—for that blue hand to be the one stroking him to completion rather than his own tawny brown?

_A lot of times._

Desperate for more contact, Eli began scrambling to push his pants down his hips. It was awkward in his straddling position, however, and he tumbled to the side, falling with an “oof!” onto his back. Thrawn only just managed to cushion the back of his head with a quickly outstretched hand.

Eli grinned up at the man now leaning over him, “Nice catch.”

Thrawn smiled down at him before twisting behind him to pull Eli’s pants the rest of the way off and throwing them onto the bed behind him. He bent down to press a kiss to Eli’s temple, his laughing breath tickling his ear as he asked, “Are you alright?”

Eli shifted his legs to rest on either side of Thrawn’s waist and nodded. “Yeah—it is a _real_ soft blanket,” he said, wriggling pointedly against it, the red fur tickling pleasantly against his neck and ears.

“Thank you,” Thrawn said, amusement dancing in his eyes as sat back on his heels between Eli’s legs, “I worked very hard on it.”

“Well, you’re about to work even _harder_ on it,” Eli said with a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Thrawn shook his head in tolerant amusement and slid a hand up along his own stomach, collecting the now-dripping gold paint in his palm, causing Eli’s breath to hitch in his chest as he watched.

Thrawn grasped Eli once more, coating his cock in gold paint before running the pad of his thumb up and down his length with firm, confident pressure. As Eli let his knees fall to the side to make more room, Thrawn bent down to place a lingering kiss on his inner thigh, his tongue flicking against the skin.

His red eyes met Eli’s as he continued trailing open-mouthed kisses up his thigh, closer and closer to where he desperately needed that beautiful mouth.

Eli gasped as Thrawn wrapped his lips around the swollen head of his cock, gold paint swelling over his lips as he swirled his tongue along the frenulum, still stroking with his hand.

Thrawn’s blue-black hair fell into his eyes as he lowered his head. He pressed forward until Eli hit the back of his throat before sliding back, stiffening his tongue to a point and dragging it along his shaft. He continued working him in his mouth, occasionally pulling back to drag his lips along the shaft or nibble at his balls until Eli’s words of encouragement disintegrated into barely comprehensible pleads for more.

Once the human was a quaking, stuttering mess beneath him, Thrawn released his cock and dragged the hand that was not otherwise occupied across his own chest, thoroughly coating his fingers.

He slid up the Eli’s body to capture his mouth in a searing kiss, stamping his lips with gold paint.

Eli moaned into Thrawn’s mouth, tasting himself through the golden sweetness on his tongue. His moan broke into a desperate keen when he felt two slickened fingers stroking his perineum, moving to circle his hole before one pressed inside.

Thrawn peppered soothing kisses on Eli’s shoulder as he gently moved his finger inside him, the heel of his hand rocking against the heat of his balls, that coarse dark hair so wonderfully unlike his own tickling his palm.

His cock twitched against Eli’s thigh, aching to slide into that impossibly tight heat, but he took his time, carefully watching Eli’s face for signs of discomfort but only finding pleasure, eagerness, and just a touch of impatience.

He added another finger.

Eli pressed down against Thrawn’s hand, throwing back his head and choking out his name when those fingers sparked white-hot pleasure deep inside him. He gripped his fists in blue-black hair and pulled Thrawn’s mouth to his in a clumsy, wet kiss.

“Please,” he gasped against blue lips, “please, Thrawn I need y—“ he clenched his eyes shut, clawing his hands against Thrawn’s shoulder blades as those fingers continued to massage his prostate with more pressure, sending precum spurting onto his stomach.

Carefully, Thrawn extracted his hand, moving it to trail across Eli’s sweat-glistened thigh in slow, soothing strokes as he leaned down for a tender kiss. He did not know for how long lost himself in the simple pleasure of Eli’s lips moving against his own, warm and soft.

Thrawn broke away, his red eyes glimmering down at Eli as he took in every detail of his lover in that moment, committing it to memory: the parting of his glistening, kiss-swollen lips; the sharp intensity of his gold-flecked brown eyes; the rise and fall of his gold-smeared chest as his breaths came out in steady but urgent pants.

With a gentle encouraging squeeze on his waist from Eli, Thrawn braced one hand beside the man’s shoulder as he positioned himself against his entrance.

Eli’s mouth fell open in a guttural moan as Thrawn pushed inside him for the first time. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so completely, so gloriously filled as he did at that moment. He wrapped his legs around Thrawn’s waist, pulling him in deeper.

A hiss of pleasure escaped Thrawn’s teeth as he buried himself inside Eli, the intensity of the clenching heat enveloping him both too much and not nearly enough all at once. The urge to move, to thrust into that glorious tightness was excruciating but he remained still, giving Eli as much time as he needed to adjust to his considerable thickness.

Thrawn growled deep in his throat as Eli rolled his hips beneath him impatiently, urging him on with a tap on his shoulder and an assuring, eager nod.

Holding his breath, Thrawn pulled out with agonizing slowness before pushing back inside just as slowly.

Eli pulled his knees back, moaning loudly as Thrawn pushed inside him, just brushing against his prostate. He moved his hands to blue shoulder blades, digging into the firm muscles with his fingers, urging him to move faster.

Thrawn obliged, and pulled out halfway before sliding back in, lifting a thigh over his arm to give him the angle he needed to transform his lover into a beautiful _wreck_.

Eli human let loose a guttural groan, clawing desperately at the Chiss’s back as he hit his prostate with the head of his cock.

“ _Fuck,_ Thrawn—yes— _gods_ yes!“ he choked, pleasure lighting him up from inside like a hyperdrive as Thrawn relentlessly, systematically, and _gloriously_ pulled him apart piece by piece until he forgot his own name.

Thrawn picked up the speed of his thrusts, sweat rolling down his back as pounded into the tight heat of the man beneath him. For the first time he could remember, his mind completely stilled; the incessant buzzing that usually dominated his thoughts faded away until there was just this pleasure, this love, this man, and the wonderful, helpless sounds he was making beneath him.

A series of “fucks” and “mores” and “pleases” tumbled from Eli’s lips like sobs as their love-making became more frantic. Each shared glance betrayed their desperation, every squeeze was a plea for more closeness.

Eli lost himself in the feeling of Thrawn’s thick cock filling him, his hips rising to meet every thrust. As he felt himself getting close, the knowledge that Thrawn was about to make him come untouched, just from _this_ sending him rapidly toward the edge and he threw his head back, crying out, “Gods, _Thrawn—_ “ before losing his capacity for intelligible speech completely.

He leaned up, searching out Thrawn’s mouth with his, crushing their lips together in a sloppy kiss and moaning deeply as white-hot pleasure swelled inside him like a thundercloud.

Thrawn kissed him back eagerly before breaking away, replacing his mouth on Eli’s neck, feeling the muscle tense against his tongue as he his thrusts became uneven and desperate, the tell-tale tightening in his balls letting him know he was close.

Thrawn bit down on Eli’s neck and he was _gone._

Eli’s muscles clenched around Thrawn’s cock as he came with a choked, desperate sound, his back arching off the floor and legs thrashing as he coated both of their chests with ribbons of his cum.

The sounds, sights and sensations of Eli’s climax sent Thrawn careening over the edge. White-hot pleasure shot through his cock as he came hard inside his lover, calling out Eli’s name as his orgasm tore through him like nothing he’d ever experienced.

Thrawn rode out his climax, thrusting sporadically into Eli as he came in hot jets _again_ and _again_ and _again_. The aftershocks were still sending currents of pleasure sparking across his body as he collapsed onto Eli’s heaving chest, his breath coming in rough pants.

Eli slid a shaking hand up Thrawn’s neck to thread his fingers through sweat-damp blue-black hair, pulling the Chiss’s mouth to his in a clumsy, open-mouthed kiss.

Thrawn moaned into his mouth, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasm.

Eli pulled Thrawn’s head down to rest in the crook of his shoulder, kissing his forehead as he continued stroking his hair with one hand, the other covering the blue hand that lay atop his own heart.

Eli did not know how much time passed before his heartbeat slowed and his breath returned to normal and he didn’t care. The knowledge that a guard could conceivably enter the cell to check on their prisoner at any moment seemed a distant and unimportant reality while Thrawn was mouthing his neck between expressions of his adoration and devotion in three different languages.

Thrawn lifted Eli’s hand to his mouth and placed a lingering kiss on his inner wrist before gently pulling out with a quiet groan, eliciting a soft sound from Eli as he was emptied of something that had come to feel so, so essential.

As the blood-oxygen began to return to his brain, Eli lifted his head from the blanket, blinking his bright eyes down at Thrawn. “The thing,” he said, his Cheunh vocabulary suddenly failing him. Thrawn arched an eyebrow and Eli switched to Sy Bisti, “the wine.”

Thrawn blinked at him. For a short, glorious time he had completely forgotten his precarious legal position. With a groan he rolled onto his back to reach for the flask and goblet with a blind, searching hand.

“A little to the left,” Eli supplied helpfully, a smile playing on his lips as he watched the tactical genius and deadly warrior struggle to locate a cup resting less than three feet from his shoulder.

Thrawn’s hand finally closed around the flask and he passed it to Eli before reaching for the goblet.

“Sorry, love,” Eli said as he pushed himself with a groan into a sitting position, twisting off the cap, “but you’re gonna have to sit up. I won’t have you chokin’ just because you’ve had the sense temporarily fucked outta you.”

Thrawn laughed under his breath as he pushed himself into a sitting position beside Eli, his blue-black hair falling into his eyes. “I’m sure my brother would love that,” he said as he watched Eli pour wine into the cup held in his blue hands.

“Yeah, well, as grateful as I am to your brother I’d rather just send him a fruit basket or somethin’,” Eli said dryly as he closed up the flask and set it aside. He took a deep breath as he got a good look at Thrawn.

The man was a glorious mess: hair mussed from sweat and Eli’s fervent hands, lips swollen, the beginnings of dark purple bruises forming on his arms and back, paint smeared across his mouth, gold swirled with Eli’s cum all over his chest and stomach.

Still, Eli had to hand it to him: the man could really pull it off.

Thrawn held up the goblet to Eli and he leaned forward, bitter-sweet wine splashing on his tongue and dyeing it deep red as the cup was gently tipped into his mouth. As he swallowed, Thrawn passed the goblet off to him and Eli reciprocated, pouring wine into his waiting mouth, staining it purple.

It was amazing to Eli that just that action sealed what they’d just done into a legally-binding marriage bond. “Is that it?” he asked, paranoid that they’d forgotten something.

Thrawn arched an eyebrow, thinking for a moment. He reached for the scroll and pen, unfurling it on the ground in front of them. He gave his marred _che’no_ a quick, curious look before handing the pen to Eli.

“You can’t do it?” Eli asked uncertainly as he accepted the instrument, “Your writing is so much neater than mine.”

“Only Mitth can write on the scroll of names,” Thrawn explained as he slid sideways, pressing his chest against Eli’s back and looking over his shoulder. “And besides,” he said, bending down to nuzzle Eli’s neck, “I quite _enjoy_ your writing.”

Eli’s eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself in the sensation of Thrawn gently nibbling his ear before he recalled the urgency of their situation. “ _Later,_ ” he chided as he broke free of Thrawn’s grasp to lean over the scroll. Glancing over his shoulder he added with a smirk, “and _often,_ ” before turning back to his task.

Eli sighed as he stared down at the ancient and sacred document. “I’m just writin’ the same thing as over here, right?” he asked, gesturing the burnt _che’no_.

“That is completely up to you.” Thrawn said from over his shoulder.

Eli frowned, “Do you _want_ me to change your name? I don’t know that I could be reliably expected to call out somethin’ other than ‘Thrawn’ in the throes of passion.”

Thrawn chuckled under his breath, pressing a quick kiss to Eli’s temple before resting his chin on his shoulder to look down at the scroll. “If my third name started with an ‘N’ I would still be ‘Thrawn.’”

Eli scrunched his nose in distaste. “Yeah, well I’m not changing it. The only other Cheunh words I can think of that start with ‘N’ right now are ‘lamp’ and ‘sock.’ Besides,” he added, turning his face slightly to meet Thrawn’s, “you’ve earned the name 'Valor' time and again in both the CDF _and_ the Imperial Navy. I’d never want to take that from you.”

Thrawn squeezed his waist gently and watched as Eli carefully wrote out _Mitth’raw’nuruodo_ in the space beside his own, connecting the two _che’no_ with a looping infinity symbol.

“It’s done!” Eli said triumphantly, picking up the scroll and blowing gently on the silver ink to dry it before carefully rolling it up.

Thrawn smiled at him, pressing his forehead against Eli’s cheek, “On the contrary: it is just beginning, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love smut. I hate writing it (or, editing it rather). I had to rewrite this chapter twice to get the mood closer to how I wanted it. I wish I had a smut-writing protocol droid to turn all my fics into erotic ones without any extra effort on my part. * flails over keyboard * 
> 
> As it stands, the only reason this smut even got here was chaos_monkey's encouragement and advice! Thanks again!!!
> 
> Cheunh vocabulary introduced previously in main story:  
> 1\. koi’tas . A berry that is crushed and fermented into the bitter-sweet wine used in bonding rituals; ancient poetry describes the berry itself as an aphrodisiac, but this would seem to be a result of sexual associations from the red lip-staining effect rather than any actual biochemical impact. Even so, it is still traditional for newly-bonded couples to feed one another koi’tas berries, and the action of plucking berries for another person his highly suggestive, in no small part due to the homophones between the Cheunh words for ‘pluck’ and ‘orgasm.’ Also, because of the presence of a certain chemical compound (koitanium), the flavor bears an uncanny resemblance to that of certain bodily fluids.  
> 2\. wa’mp’thana, traditional blanket, woven from the fur of a wampa, often dyed in warm colors, or, in the case of ruling families, in house colors. Embroidery in the corners indicates the name of the hunter who killed the beast. Such trophies as these are common courtship gifts, used to demonstrate one’s prowess as a warrior, and suitability as a defender to a prospective mate. And if the recipient is agreeable, they roll out the blanket and have sex about it.  
> 3\. Duhunu, a small woodland creature with fluffy brown fur, sort of like a mix between a deer and a Chihuahua (if you can imagine such a thing).  
> 4\. Che’no, the sigil denoting someone’s name, used in signing contracts...and playing with Thrawn's abs, apparently.


End file.
